


French Earl Grey

by RubyIntyale



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Office AU, Office Supplies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyIntyale/pseuds/RubyIntyale
Summary: Armie in Accounts gets Timmy in Commercial in the office Secret Santa. Having no clue who he is, Armie does a bit of investigating.





	French Earl Grey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etal/gifts).



> The very lovely etal asked for a Secret Santa fic, so here it is :)  
> Complete and utter make believe.

“Who’s Tim Cha...Chal...Calmet?” Armie squinted at the unfolded scrap of paper in his hand. He was met with several shrugs, a couple of ‘dunnos.’ Most of his colleagues didn’t even look up from their screens, zombified by the ever present year end figures.

“Chalamet. I think he’s that pretty guy down on third,” Denise offered as she walked over to the filing cabinets. 

“There’s a pretty guy down on third?” Armie sat up straighter in his purple desk chair, “And you didn’t  _ tell _ me?!”

“He’s new,” she winked at him, “actually, he’s messed up one of my purchase orders. I need to go and speak to him.”

Armie raised an eyebrow, “You mean one of  _ my _ purchase orders?” 

She handed over the file with only minimal eye rolling. 

 

Armie stood in the doorway, paperwork in hand, “Tim?” He called, no idea who he was looking for.

“Here.”

_ Oh hello.  _ Armie tried not to look too happy as he walked over to Tim’s desk. He was met with gorgeous green eyes, flawless skin and an elfin smile topped with glossy curls. ‘Pretty’ had been an understatement. 

“Hey man, I’m Armie, I work in payables upstairs.”

“Hi Armie. What can I do for you?”

_ So many things. _

“I, er, I have this order here. It looks like the requisition was raised without the carriage charge line, so now the invoice won’t match. Did they include it in the quote?”

“Shit, hang on,” Timmy began searching through the stacks of paperwork covering his desk. He tucked an errant curl behind his ear and it immediately fell back in front of his eyes. Armie wanted to play with it, maybe bury his fingers in the rest while Timmy sucked his

“Got it!” 

“Hmm?”

Timmy scanned the document, tongue sticking out in concentration. He looked up at Armie with a sheepish smile, “Um, yeah. They did. I missed it. Sorry.”

“It’s cool, no problem. Can you do a change order?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll do it now.”

“Thanks man. See you later.”

“Bye.”

 

Armie mouthed ‘fuck yeah’ at Denise when he got back to the office.

 

He was easy to find on Facebook with a name like that. Armie had already decided that he was going to get Tim the Best Secret Santa Present Ever, now it was simply a case of finding out what he liked. Thus far, his research had shown that Tim liked hip hop, quirky fashion and french toast. Not a whole lot to go on, unless he went well over the budget. 

Facebook linked to Insta, and Armie scrolled. Nothing there to help him, either. Tim seemed fairly guarded, careful not to post anything too personal. Armie sighed and drummed his fingers on the mousepad. He was going to have to get creative.

 

A few days later, he decided to go for a wander down to the third floor, ringbinder in hand so it looked like he had a purpose. After ten minutes of idling he  _ just happened _ to run into Tim, looking forlorn as he poured the contents of a mug down the sink.

“Hey, Tim, isn't it?”

Tim looked startled, “Oh, hi Armie.”

“Everything OK?” Armie smiled at him, gestured to the now empty mug.

“Not really,” Timmy sighed, “I know it's stupid, but I hate the tea here. I always bring my own and Gina always forgets so I end up with this crap, and of course I can't say anything because who the fuck does that when someone's offered to make you a drink?” He caught Armie's look and blushed furiously, “Like I said, it's stupid. I'm just having a rough day. Sorry.”

Armie shrugged dismissively, “You like what you like.”

Timmy held his gaze, swiped up a water droplet running down the handle. “Earl Grey.”

Armie's dick twitched in his pants. “Me too.”

 

He hit the shops that afternoon, scanning the shelves for the loose leaf he knew he’d seen before. Eventually he found it; hibiscus, sunflower petals, rose and mallow. French Earl Grey. Just the thing for a little tête-à-tête with  Timothée. He smiled all the way home.

 

The canteen was decked out in traditional Christmas livery. A stray bit of tinsel broke free of its moorings and hit Armie in the face as he stood by the drinks table. Denise went round with the present bags. He watched Timmy like a hawk. 

Timmy peeled away the paper with delicate fingers. His face lit up when he turned the box over, read the pink Post It on top:

**Sweet tea for a sweet T**

His eyes found Armie’s, mouth open, quizzical, pleased. Armie felt his face get hot, suddenly worried he’d gone too far. He turned away and grabbed a sausage roll, feigned interest in the conversation taking place next to him. Timmy cornered him when he moved on to the mini eclairs.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I know it was you,” Timmy folded his arms, smiling smugly. 

Armie shrugged, “It’s only tea.”

“No it’s not. Do you wanna get a drink sometime?”

“Of tea?”

“No,” Timmy’s eyes were full of mischief, “not tea.”

Armie turned to look at him. Timmy bounced on the balls of his feet, hands held behind his back. 

“Would people talk if I kissed you right now?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Can we go somewhere else, then?”

Armie had to laugh at his bluntness, “There’s a stationery cupboard on fifth. Wait ten minutes, then meet me up there.”

There was barely enough room for one person in the cupboard, let alone two. They ended up with Timmy’s back against Armie’s front, Armie’s hands smoothing down his thighs. He nuzzled Timmy’s neck and kissed him, drawing a whimper from his throat. He palmed his erection through his trousers, opened the button, pulled the zip down. 

“You,” he slid his tongue under Timmy’s shirt collar, “are the most beautiful, perfect”

Timmy tilted his head back, interrupted him with a kiss. Armie tugged his trousers and boxers down to mid thigh, groaning as Timmy’s scent mixed with the cloying sweetness of whiteboard markers and Tipex. 

His cock was hot and heavy, velvety in Armie’s hand. He stroked him slowly, making sure to apply extra pressure just under the head. Timmy leaned into the contact, bracing himself against the shelves for balance. 

“Fuck, Armie.”

“I wish we could,” Armie picked up the pace, “we can go back to my place, if you want?”

Timmy moaned and arched his back, “Yeah, I want,” he reached behind, fingers curling around the length of Armie’s cock. 

Armie let go of his dick, smiled at Timmy’s shocked whine, “Your ass is perfect,” he held it in both hands and _ squeezed _ , “you’re like a soft, sexy little peach. I can’t wait to taste you.”

Timmy gasped and giggled, holding onto the shelf in front of him, “I fucked a peach once.”

“What?”

“When I was like, seventeen. We went on vacation to Italy, and there was this orchard next to the villa. One day I was bored, so...”

“You fucked a peach?”

Timmy giggled again, “Yeah. It was really sticky.”

“Did you come?”

“Yeah, man. I was seventeen.”

Armie snorted out a laugh. His hand found Timmy’s cock again, stroking faster and faster, “I have some peaches at home,” he smeared Timmy’s precome around with his thumb, “maybe you could reenact it for me.”

“Only if I get that monster cock at the same time. Oooooh fuck!” He pitched forward and came in thick spurts, drenching everything on the bottom shelf.

Armie held his dick through the last few drops, nuzzled his shoulder as he hugged him tight.

“I hope nobody needs a stapler tomorrow.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [lion-from-the-north on tumblr](http://lion-from-the-north.tumblr.com//)


End file.
